


You Make Loving Fun

by Telesilla



Series: I've a Feeling It's Time to Try [2]
Category: Baseball RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Baseball, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mild Kink, San Francisco Giants, Wordcount: 5.000-15.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 02:37:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hunter sets Buster up with Brandon and Brandon's more than happy to pick up where Hunter left off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Make Loving Fun

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of two possible sequels to "It Would Be Different and You Know It Will ."

This, Buster thinks, is the stupidest idea in the history of stupid ideas. He knows why he let Hunter talk him into it, but he doesn't know why he didn't call the whole thing off after thinking about it some. Maybe it's remembering how it felt that night when he managed to let go of the fear and just feel. He still has moments when he wonders what the hell is wrong with him that he liked it and even wanted more, but he feels like a tension he's been carrying for years has eased, at least a little.

And that, he thinks, is why he's here, in an obscure Mexican restaurant out in the avenues. It's one of their places--apparently Tim found it when he came up-- and it's far from the park and familiar. He's early; he was too afraid he'd turn around and walk out the moment he saw....

"Hey."

Buster blinks and looks up and...Brandon Belt?! For a moment he's furious; how could Hunter pull this kind of practical joke on him? But then he takes in the look on Belt's face and no, he looks too nervous and, more importantly, too serious for this to be a joke. But still, Belt's gay?

"Hi," Buster says. "Um...look, free chips."

It's the right thing to say; Belt laughs and sits down across from Buster. "You know how I am about free appetizers." 

After they've ordered beers and are looking at their menus, Belt says, "you ever been on a blind date before?"

"No," Buster says.

"Yeah me neither." Belt pauses to eat a few chips. "Just so you know, I'm not expecting to put out. I'm a nice boy."

He's so deadpan that Buster just stares at him for a minute. When Belt lowers his menu to look back, he's smiling broadly and wow, Buster's never noticed the way his whole face lights up when he smiles.

"Sorry," Belt says. "I tend to make stupid jokes at times like this."

"It's okay," Buster says. "It's better than my thing. I tend to freeze up even in...ordinary social situations."

If Belt guesses that Buster almost said "normal" he doesn't say anything. "Yeah and this is me levels of awkward."

The waiter interrupts to take their orders and bring new chips but the interruption doesn't help much.

"I don't even know what to say." Buster sips his beer. "What did Pence tell you?"

"Not much. Look, I know this is set up as a date and everything, but really, he said you mostly need someone to talk to. Someone who's gay, I mean."

There's no one near them and Belt's speaking quietly, but Buster can't help looking around out of the corners of his eyes. "I had no idea," he says.

"Yeah well, you weren't supposed to. I didn't know about you after all."

"I still don't...no, I mean I know and I have for a while, but...."

"You've hardly ever said it and you've tried not to think about it much either."

"Yeah."

"That can't be easy," Belt says.

"I don't think it's easy for anyone."

"In the show? Not really. There are more of us than you'd think, though, especially if you consider the bi guys too. But still, it's not easy. There are plenty of times I wish I could just be out, but I'm not the trailblazing type."

"You'd be out if you could?" Buster can't even imagine it.

"My family and a couple of friends from high school already know. Not to mention the guys I've actually slept with. It'd be nice not to have to worry about dating the occasional girl to keep people from asking stupid questions." He shrugs, like the concept of being out to friends and family is no big deal.

"I don't...you're the third person who knows."

Belt looks at him for a moment. "It must have been hard, coming here and not know who was going to come through that door."

"Yeah, it was. But...look, I don't know if you know what happened with Hunter, but I do trust him." And now it's Buster's turn to look at Belt. "I knew it was going to be a teammate and I trust you guys."

Belt smiles. "It's a pretty good bunch of guys."

The food comes and Belt says, "Look at all this food. I love this place; it's closer to what we get at home than most Mexican places in California."

"We don't get much authentic Mexican food of any kind in Georgia," Buster says as they start eating. "I learned to like it in the minors."

"Yeah, you can get a pretty good Mexican dinner for next to nothing in a lot of triple A towns."

Given the way Belt's 2011 season went, Buster would think he didn't want to talk about his time with the Grizzlies. To his surprise, however, Belt asks him a question about his time in Bakersfield and pretty soon they're talking about shitty hotel rooms, long bus rides and how they kind of miss hitter friendly parks and AAA pitching. Buster almost forgets why they're eating together except that he can't because every few minutes Belt smiles or gestures with his long hands. After not looking for so long, Buster still feels a twist of nervousness in his stomach when he does look and when he thinks about what it would feel like if Belt touched him.

"Sorry," he says when he realizes he's let the conversation lapse. "I was...okay." He takes a deep breath. "I was looking at your hands."

This time Belt's smile is a little shy. "Really? Actually, you're in luck. Ballplayers, for the most part, have amazing hands."

"I don't usually look."

"Yeah, it's rough at first. You're in a locker room with twenty-five dudes, all of them in good shape and half of them naked. It's how I first figured it out when I was a freshman in high school."

"How did you not, give it away or something?"

"Jerked off before PE and games," Belt says, his voice matter of fact. "And you learn to look the same way everyone else does. The no-homo glance," he adds with a sarcastic snort.

"Is it a problem that I don't do that?"

"Nah, everyone thinks you're just shy." He bites his lip and his ears get a little red. "You don't...I mean, you have no reason to be."

"I uh...I was telling Hunter that it makes me feel weird when people say I'm good looking."

"Not a problem I have."

With a woman--okay, with Kristen--Buster would just assume a compliment was needed here. Now, he's not sure, but still....

"You have a nice smile," he says, and wow, his face feels hot.

"Thanks," Belt says, ducking his head a little.

"Is that...I don't know how this works."

"Not that different than with girls, near as I can tell. Not that I know much; I mean I went on dates in high school, but she knew all about me so it was different." He shrugs. "And, to be honest, I've gone on maybe two or three dates with guys."

"Really?"

"Um, yeah. Mostly, it's just grabbing a drink and then going to someone's hotel room to fuck. Sometimes you skip the drinks or just hit up the minibar."

Again, Belt's matter-of-fact tone shocks the hell out of Buster. "So...you're talking about other ball players?"

"Yeah. I mean it was sweet of Hunter to keep my secret, but it's not that big a secret. Well, in some circles at least." He tilts his head a little. "I'm kind of freaking you out a little."

"No," Buster says quickly. "Okay, yeah, you kind of are."

"No one expects you to suddenly start blowing guys in hotel rooms, you know. I do it because I like sex and because it's easy. But that's me; it's not every queer guy in the show."

Buster blinks a little. "I thought queer is a word you shouldn't use."

"Nah, it's okay to say it. If you are, I mean; it's kinda like the N word that way. And in sports, queer's the easy way to put it; there are bi guys out there and some straight guys who get pretty gay after a few drinks."

"This is like...I had no idea it was like that."

"Like I said, you don't have to be part of the party scene. I mean you don't smoke weed with Zeets and Timmy and BCraw either. Thing is, if you are gonna sleep with guys, ball players are the safest. Or guys in other sports. Less likely to out you."

"Yeah, that makes sense." Buster sighs. "I just don't know if I could, I mean with someone I don't really know."

Belt nods and pauses to eat a few bites. Watching him, Buster can't help thinking about how he knows Belt. They're not really close, but Buster's always liked that Belt's not a whiner even after getting bounced around so much in the last couple of years. And when he does get upset, it's with himself; he never tries to blame anyone else for his mistakes. He's a stand up guy and although it's not Buster's own style, he likes Belt's sense of humor.

When Belt looks up, Buster's face feels hot again--God, he hates the way he blushes so easily.

"You're thinking that you know me."

"Sorry. Am I that obvious?"

"Not really. It was an educated guess." He toys with his fork. "Thing is, I don't want you to think that I...."

"That you?" Buster says after a moment.

"That if you wanted to...it wouldn't be like going to some dude's hotel room for an hour or so. I wouldn't treat it like something off hand like that." It's obvious he's trying to come up with the right words, but Buster is totally distracted by the way Belt's tongue is sticking out just a little as he thinks.

"I'm not saying that if we do it's suddenly serious and we're registering with Under Armor. But you're a teammate and not some random dude. It means something."

"I just...I know that guys," Buster sighs. "At least I've heard that there's a lot of casual sex."

"Straight dudes have a lot of casual sex too. But yeah, there's plenty of fucking around. We're all young and single and all we really have is baseball, booze and sex."

"Doesn't it bother you?"

"It sounds kind of shallow when you look at guys with families like Cainer or BCraw, but really, during the season, they're mostly about baseball too." He chases down the last of his rice and then gives Buster a look. "Do you miss it?"

"I...I was a crappy husband," Buster says. "I was all about baseball, but more to avoid...being a husband."

"That's rough."

"Yeah, for both of us. We get along better now."

"Does she know?"

"Yeah. I didn't exactly have to tell her." Buster doesn't even want to look at Belt because the last thing he needs right now is pity, but when he finally glances up, Belt just looks serious. "Sorry this isn't exactly a fun date," Buster says.

"Not happy fun, maybe, but I'm glad Hunter set it up."

"Yeah?" Buster can't help smiling a little. "Me too." 

"You want dessert here?" Belt asks after they've grinned at each other for a moment. "Or, if you trust that I won't jump you, I've got a pan of brownies Ali made for me over at my place. And some ice cream."

It's an easy decision to make. "Yeah, I'd like that."

On the drive over to Belt's place--which turns out to be just up the street from Hunter's apartment building--Buster tries to figure out if he wants Belt to jump him. Belt's sheer size is a little daunting but Buster's noticed something about him; like a lot of really big guys Buster knows, Belt's careful. He can't imagine that Belt would be hurt him.

If it ends up in bed. Buster can think about it in the abstract, but even now, he can feel his shoulders going tight. You can't just flip a switch, Hunter said and he was right. Thinking about Belt's hands on him makes Buster feel sick and hot at the same time. And, okay, yeah, a little horny.

Belt's place is a lot like Hunter's, but smaller and you can't see the park from the living room. "Bum lives near here too, doesn't he?"

"Yeah and Kruk's got a place a little up the road; closer to the park. It's not cheap, but you can walk or scooter around if the weather's nice."

"I keep the place over in Orinda mostly for when Kristen or my mom visits with the kids, but I've been thinking of getting a place in the city. I end up staying over at Matt's when I'm too tired to go home." And when he doesn't want to be in that big, empty house by himself.

"You'll have to get a scooter," Belt says. "It's required."

"I'll get one when I see Kruk show up on one."

"If I told him you said that, it'd happen." Belt snickers and then unwraps the foil on a baking pan. "You want yours heated with ice cream? Or not heated with ice cream. Oh, I also have some chocolate syrup and some caramel sauce."

"I didn't know you had a sweet tooth."

"Not as much as you do, but I like some ice cream now and then. And Ali...Jesus, that woman loves to feed people."

"Yeah?" Belt's still holding the pan of brownies and Buster adds, "oh, heated with ice cream. And caramel sauce."

"She makes a mean chicken fried steak...okay look," Belt says as he puts a brownie in the microwave. "Madison trusts me and I know he won't mind you knowing...you know how I said there were bi guys in the show?"

"Bum?!" Buster feels almost betrayed because he fucking roomed with Bum for months when they were playing for Fresno and Bum never said anything.

"Yeah...um...only with Ali...." Belt sighs and rubs the back of his neck. "We have a sort of fuck buddy threesome thing," he finally says. "Oh God, I have so freaked you out."

The microwave dings and Belt turns to deal with it, leaving Buster staring at his back.

"Yeah," he says. "You really have. I thought you were gay." He knows he sounds confused, but really this is a lot to take in.

"It's not like that, not for me. I'm maybe, I dunno, eighty-five, maybe ninety percent gay." Belt puts the brownie in a bowl on the bar and gets out the ice cream and caramel sauce. "And Bum's pretty much the opposite," he continues as he puts another brownie in the microwave. "It's...we're buddies, you know? I visited in the off season after 2011 and Ali decided I was a member of the family and then one afternoon we were drinking and kinda just fell into bed together. And so we fool around now and then."

While Belt's been talking Buster's been loading up his brownie with ice cream, mostly to have something to do with his hands. "That's...."

"It's fun. It's not all serious business or anything, just...Ali and me, we're kind of huggy when we like someone. Believe me, the three of us spend more time cuddled up on the sofa than fucking." He turns and looks at Buster. "Hunter thinks it's gonna get messy, but he doesn't really get that it really is friends with benefits. I love them both because...."

He sighs and sets up his own brownie. "C'mon," he says. "Livingroom's more comfortable."

Buster can't tell if it's by design or not, but when he settles on the couch, Belt parks himself in an armchair. "You love them because?"

"I said my family knows and they're mostly cool about it, but Bum 'n' Ali know that I fuck around and they're still cool with it. They're like family and you'll find, or at least I hope you find, that people who accept you as you are are special. It's why Hunter's a friend. He worries a little too much, but it's like having a big brother."

Buster's not completely oblivious when it comes to his own issues; he knows that he indulges his sweet tooth when life gets weird. And right now, he thinks as he takes that first, fantastic bite of brownie and ice cream, life's pretty damn weird.

"I don't," he says and then stops when he realizes that he's about to sound pathetic.

"You do," Belt says. "You've got Hunter. And I know you probably think you can't say anything, but do you honestly think Cainer would treat you any different if he knew? I can tell you for sure that Bum won't care."

"I don't know. Like you said I don't know if I can even imagine saying something."

"The more you say it, the easier it gets," Belt says. "And you know, when it comes to friends...I might not always have brownies, but there's always ice cream in the fridge and," he gestures at the mess of gaming equipment in front of the TV. "I've got an X-Box and a PS3 and a couple hard drives with more damn movies on them than you could watch in a lifetime."

"You know the way to...." Buster laughs. "Wow, I can't believe I almost said that."

"A man's stomach?" Belt asks, his eyes wide with fake innocence.

"Yeah, that too." It's different than it was with Hunter. Maybe that Belt is his age and those five years makes a difference or maybe it's just that as cool as he was about it, Hunter was a straight guy doing Buster a favor, but Buster feels a lot more comfortable tonight.

"Thanks," he says, a little more seriously.

They finish their sundaes in silence and then, as he cleans up, Belt says, "Madden 24?"

"Maybe a little before I pass out in a sugar coma."

"You have what you need for tomorrow in your truck? Because I have a spare room if you don't want to drive across the Bay under the influence of brownie sundaes."

"Sounds good."

Gaming with Brandon is fun, which doesn't surprise Buster at all, and it's later than Buster expected when they finally call it a night.

"Let me get some stuff for the other bathroom," Brandon says, heading down the hall.

Buster follows him and, as Brandon turns away from the linen closet, they're suddenly face to face. Not sure what to do, Buster licks his lips and then feels his face go hot. It's just a nervous gesture, but under the circumstances, it's a stupid one.

"I...uh sorry," he says.

"Huh?" Brandon's staring at him and even in the dim light of the hall, Buster can see how wide his eyes are.

Buster means it when he says he doesn't really think about how he looks, but now, he's aware of the way Brandon's looking at him. He did that, he thinks. It never mattered with women, but the idea that guys find him attractive is kind of cool.

"Here," Brandon says, his voice a little hoarse as he holds out a towel. "If you need anything else...."

"Do you want to kiss me?" Buster winces, because wow, way to be awkward.

"I'm not blind," Brandon says. "Of course I want to kiss you."

"God," Buster says. "I'm so bad at this." He takes a step forward. "I want that...."

Hunter had been so careful, had kept it light and slow. He hadn't even used his tongue that first time in San Diego and he'd been hesitant again when they were in his bed.

Brandon is nothing like Hunter. He steps close, until they're right up in each other's space, and slides an arm around Buster's waist. When he bends down and kisses Buster, there's no hesitancy at all. It's a shock to be kissed like this, to have Brandon's mouth hard against his and to feel the slick warmth of his tongue move against Buster's lips. A shock, but a good one; Buster moans, opens his mouth and just lets Brandon kiss him.

He's not sure how it happens, but a few minutes later, his back's against the hall wall and they're still kissing. Buster's never kissed anyone like this, never felt like he could just do this all night because it's the hottest thing. Only no, because Brandon's pushed his thigh between Buster's legs and the pressure against Buster's hard on is the hottest thing. Or maybe it's both, he thinks as he moans into Brandon's mouth and grinds up against his thigh.

"Fuck," Brandon says as he pulls back. "Jesus, I'm sorry...."

"Huh?" Buster blinks at him in the dim light. "Why?"

"Hunter told me to take it easy on you."

"Yeah well, Hunter's not here," Buster says. He reaches out, puts his hands on Brandon's waist, and hauls him back in.

Brandon hesitates and then he's kissing Buster again. It's harder and messier than before and this, Buster thinks as he kisses Brandon back, is what making out is supposed to be like. It's not the sweet, tentative moments he and Kristen had in high school--moments that made Buster wonder what was wrong with him because he didn't see what the big deal was. This is hot and dirty and nasty and all Buster can think is how he wants more.

He's so hard it hurts, but it's a good hurt; he shoves up against Brandon's thigh, moaning as the pressure against his dick makes things even better. When Brandon pulls away, Buster's ready to complain, but the complaint turns into another moan as Brandon mouths at his neck.

"Oh God," he mumbles. "Oh fuck...." Sliding his hands down from Brandon's waist, Buster rests them on his hips and tugs hard.

"Fuck," Brandon says, his breath hot on Buster's neck. "You're so fucking...Buster...."

Brandon's moving his leg now and Buster's rocking against it and it's so fucking good and hot and shocking. Buster's already close and when Brandon bites at his neck, Buster yells, "oh fuck!" and comes hard. It's amazing and leaves him panting and weak; the only things holding him up are the wall and Brandon's body pressed against him.

"God," Buster gasps. "God...Brandon...."

"Jesus," Brandon says. His voice is hoarse and his body is tense against Buster's; it takes Buster a moment to figure out why.

"Let me," he says, although he's not quite sure what to do. "What do...?"

"Won't take much." Brandon reaches for Buster's hand and pushes it between them.

"Fuck yeah," Buster mutters as he fumbles with Brandon's fly. "Yeah...wanna...."

"Oh," Brandon sounds surprised, but he pushes Buster's hand out of the way and gets his pants open.

As soon as he can, Buster slides his hand down inside Brandon's shorts. Brandon's dick is hot and slick at the head and, wow, kinda big. But it's still a dick and Buster knows what to do with one of those.

"Goddamn, Buster...." Brandon sucks in a harsh breath and braces himself against the wall with one hand.

It's really fucking hot, jerking Brandon off like this. Maybe someday, Buster thinks as he rubs his thumb right below the head of Brandon's dick. Maybe someday, he'll be able to go down on his knees and suck Brandon off, but now? Now, Brandon is shoving into his hand and that's different than jerking himself off and wow, he's jerking another _guy_ off. For real this time.

"Yeah...oh yeah...oh yeah...." Brandon comes all over his shorts and Buster's hand in a rush of damp heat. "Yeah," he murmurs again as he slumps against Buster.

His weight's pressing Buster against the wall, but Buster likes it. It's...he's not likely to forget that he's with another guy when that guy's plastered against him.

"So much for going easy on you," Brandon says with a breathless chuckle.

"Hunter's not the boss of me." Buster leans his head against Brandon's shoulder. It's not that easy though; Hunter was probably worried about Buster freaking out all over Brandon. Right now, with his hand down Brandon's pants and still boneless from his own orgasm, Buster isn't going to freak out and knowing that feels almost as good as coming did.

Brandon chuckles again. "Or of me." He leans in and kisses Buster again. "You want to shower?"

It happens in the shower. Buster's rinsing off and suddenly he's remembering the way he all but humped Brandon's leg. This time, though, he takes a couple of deep breaths. Who cares? he tells himself. It felt good and Brandon isn't going to think any less of him; Brandon liked it. And Buster? Buster liked getting Brandon off.

"Pretty gay," he says and yeah, it was. But it was also pretty hot.

When he gets out of the shower, Brandon's bedroom door is still open and the lights are still on. "Hey," Brandon calls out. "You need anything?"

Buster's only wearing a towel but he doesn't even think about it as he leans in Brandon's doorway. Brandon's stretched out on the bed and his TV's on without the sound.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Brandon says staring at him. "You're like fucking porn."

Buster face gets hot and he looks down at himself. "You've seen me in a towel hundreds of times."

"No, I've not looked at you in a towel hundreds of times. There's a difference." Brandon pauses. "You want to sleep in here? Or in the spare room?"

"Depends," Buster says, trying not to overthink it. "You gonna watch TV all night?"

"I don't have to," Brandon says. "I could probably go to sleep now. Seems like you're a good influence on me."

"Okay, let me get something to wear."

When Buster spends the night at Matt and Chelsea's place, he sleeps in sweats and a t-shirt, but now he digs in his overnight bag and pulls out a pair of boxers. Apparently it's the right choice; when he settles into bed next to Brandon, Brandon's wearing a pair of boxer briefs.

"I really did intend to offer you dessert and just talk," Brandon says, once the lights are out. Brandon's bed is a king, but Buster's still aware that he's in bed with someone. It's kind of nice, even if it's another guy. Or maybe because it's another guy.

"I know," Buster says. "It's okay. It's not like I didn't want it. And it was...it was really fucking hot."

"Yeah, it was."

It's reassuring to hear that. Given how experienced Brandon is, Buster was worried that he'd find making out kind of tame.

Speaking of experience....

"I liked tonight," he says. "All of it, not just the making out. I had fun. So if...if you want to get together again, I'd like that."

"Really?" Brandon sounds pleased and a little relieved. "Me too. I know we're gonna be exhausted, but maybe after the next series? You could come over after Wednesday's game or we could get together the next day."

"Wednesday night would be good, if we're not too tired."

"Cool." Brandon's silent for a moment and then Buster hears the sheets rustling a little. When Brandon's reaches for Buster's hand, Buster turns it a little until he can slide his fingers between Brandon's. "I don't know where we're going," Brandon says. "But I meant what I said earlier. This isn't the same as a...as a random booty call."

"I know." It's Buster's turn to pause while he tries to find the right words. "I don't think this is just me experimenting. I mean...I'm not using you to make sure I'm gay."

Brandon just squeezes his hand a little and Buster realizes that that's the first time he's said it without stammering or feeling weird.

I'm gay, he thinks, and squeezes Brandon's hand back.

 

* * *

"Can we just pretend that didn't happen?" Buster asks as he walks through Brandon's door on Wednesday night. Before Brandon can answer, Buster holds up the bag from the liquor store he stopped at on the way over. "For the ice cream," he says, pulling out a bottle of Godiva liqueur.

"You're a genius," Brandon says. He takes the bag and bottle and sets them on the bar before turning back to Buster. "And yeah, I'm fine with never speaking of this series again."

Brandon holds his arms out a little and Buster steps into the hug. They're managed to keep it business as usual in the clubhouse and they've talked on the phone and exchanged texts a couple of times after games. This, however, is the first time they've been alone together since Monday morning and God, it feels good.

Before long, though, Buster wants more. He reaches up, curls his hand around the back of Brandon's neck and pulls him into a kiss. It's just as good as the other night, or maybe even better because Buster feels a little more comfortable kissing back. And fine, Buster feels a little stupid at not realizing how amazing kissing is until now, but fuck that. He's looking forward to making up for lost time.

When they pull apart, Buster's breathless and his dick is pressing against the front of his jeans. "God," he says with a nervous little laugh. "I'm so easy."

Brandon twists a little and Buster can feel the bulge of Brandon's erection press up against his hip. "You're not the only one."

"Oh good," Buster says and gives him another kiss, lighter and easier this time.

"Ice cream?" Brandon asks. "Or we could just skip the ice cream and just drink that stuff straight."

"You can drink it straight. I want ice cream."

"I know Bum teases you, which really, he has no room to talk, but how are you not fat?"

"Why do you think I work out so much? Part of it's conditioning and part of it's to burn off all the sugar. I'm lucky; I've got a pretty fast metabolism."

"They keep telling me that'll change any day now," Brandon says as he sets a bowl of ice cream in front of Buster.

"It doesn't happen to everyone at twenty-five," Buster says. He pours a generous helping of liqueur onto his ice cream and then heads to the living room. "Could happen later."

This time, Brandon joins him on the sofa, sitting close to him. "I'm hoping for later. The last thing I want to do is go all paleo."

"You'd have to give up pasta and bread sticks."

"Yeah, no."

"My thoughts exactly."

A comfortable silence falls while they finish their ice cream and then Brandon yawns. It's catching, of course.

"Okay," Brandon says. "It's only midnight and even I'm ready to pass out." He puts his bowl on the coffee table and stands up. "You want to sleep with me?"

"I was hoping to," Buster says and damnit, there's that blush again.

"So was I."

Buster doesn't have to have roommates anymore, but he spent enough time in the minors and in college that things like getting ready for bed with another guy aren't weird at all. Only it is; it's both weird and distracting. Watching Brandon undress gives Buster a chance to really look at him and yeah, Buster likes what he sees. Brandon's not cut like Hunter is, but for a big man, he's pretty lean. And....

"What?"

Blinking, Buster realizes he's been staring. "Um...I never really looked at your ass before."

"My one redeeming feature," Brandon says with a wry smile.

Just like the other night, Buster's not sure what to make of the comment. It's not true, but Buster still doesn't know if he's supposed to say something. He finally settles on "I don't know about that, but it's pretty nice."

Brandon finishes taking his pants off and walks over to where Buster's standing. Buster's shirt is already on the floor and he's in the middle of unzipping his pants, when Brandon stops in front of him. "Can I?"

"Um...sure," Buster says.

It's weird having someone undress him, but it's even weirder when, after stepping out of his pants, he finds himself looking down at Brandon. Brandon stays on his knees and slides his hands up the back of Buster's legs. "You've got a pretty nice ass yourself," he says. Before Buster can respond--either to the words or the feel of Brandon's big hands on his ass--Brandon leans forward and rubs his cheek against Buster's dick.

Buster still has his shorts on, but that doesn't seem to make any difference. He gasps and drops his hands down to Brandon's shoulders. "Fuck...oh fuck, Brandon."

"Can I?" Brandon asks again. He looks up at Buster and licks his lips, just in case Buster hadn't figure out what he was asking for.

"Yeah," Buster says, his voice rough. He clears his throat and, as Brandon pulls his shorts down, adds, "Please."

Once Buster's shorts are out of the way, Brandon rests his hands on Buster's hips. As Buster stares down at him, his eyes wide, Brandon winks at him. And then....

And then his mouth is sliding over Buster's dick and it's almost too much. Brandon knows exactly what he's doing and Buster holds his breath as Brandon goes down and keeps on going. "Oh God oh God oh God," he gasps, not really aware of what he's saying. Brandon's mouth is hot and slick and fucking perfect; every time he pulls back a little, he uses his tongue and it's like he _knows_ all the right spots.

"I can't," Buster gasps out. It's only been a few moments, but when Brandon uses his tongue again, Buster's almost there. "Brandon...I'm...gonna...."

"Mmmmmmhmmm," Brandon hums.

Buster comes with a harsh groan. It's good, so fucking good that he has to lean down and rest his hands on Brandon's shoulders to keep from collapsing. When Brandon pulls off, looks up and drags the back of his hand across his mouth, Buster shudders and groans again.

_"You never kissed anyone after they blew you?"_

Before he can overthink it, he goes down on his knees and pulls Brandon in for a kiss. Brandon makes a surprised little noise, but he goes with it. It's weird--Brandon tastes sharp and salty--but it's also surprisingly hot. Just seconds ago, Brandon was sucking Buster off and now Buster's got his tongue in Brandon's mouth. Pretty gay, he thinks with a mental smile.

"Nice," Brandon murmurs when they finally pull apart.

"Yeah," Buster says with a laugh. "That's putting it mildly."

"Yeah? Cool," Brandon says.

"I want to," Buster begins and then pauses, because does he really?

"I want to get out of my shorts," Brandon says after Buster falls silent. "C'mon, let's get in bed and then figure it out."

Buster grabs his shorts as he stands up, but he doesn't put them on. Instead, he sits on the edge of the bed and watches Brandon strip his own shorts off. "Wow," he says and then feels like a complete idiot. But seriously, Brandon's dick is fucking big. He's watched a little porn--just vanilla stuff--the last couple of nights, and Brandon's easily as big as some of the guys in the videos.

"Having you around is pretty good for my ego," Brandon says as he sits down next to Buster.

"I could say the same," Buster says. He pauses and then sighs. "I want to return the favor but...."

"Shhhh," Brandon says. "It's fun and when you're ready I can give you some...tips." He pauses and snickers. When Buster snickers too, he says, "God, we're twelve."

"We really are," Buster says. "It's...I like that it's not all serious business with you."

"Sex," Brandon says with a grin. "Is one of the single most ridiculous things people do."

Buster had never thought of it that way. "Yeah, it kind of is."

"We should watch some porn sometime. You want ridiculous...."

"That would be fun, but now, if you'll lie down, I can help you with that." He gestures at Brandon's lap.

"You don't have to."

"You're turning down a handjob?"

"Well, since you put it that way."

Brandon stretches out on the bed, hands behind his head, and just lets Buster look at him. "I might never be able to shower at the park again," Buster says, slowly running a finger down the trail of dark hair on Brandon's belly. "Now that I know what I've been missing."

"I tell you," Brandon says watching as Buster's fingers get closer and closer to his dick. "Jerk off before games."

"And after?"

"After games, I'll back you into a shower stall and blow you." Brandon laughs as Buster stares at him wide-eyed. "For your own good, of course."

"Generous of you."

"I can be...oh yeah, that's nice." Brandon shivers as Buster finally reaches his dick. Buster keeps it slow, mapping out Brandon's cock with his fingers.

"I...can I try?" And wow, way to be articulate Posey.

Brandon, however, seems to know what Buster means. "It's easier if you don't try to put it in your mouth at first. Just try using your tongue...like you just were with your fingers."

Huh, Buster thinks as he leans down. Brandon showered less than an hour ago; he smells like soap and...he smells warm somehow. Buster tells himself to stop stalling and slowly licks his way down the length of Brandon's dick.

"Yeah," Brandon says hoarsely. When Buster runs his tongue back up again, he can see Brandon's hands clenching the blankets.

Hunter had been careful and, near as Buster could tell, he'd done his best to concentrate on Buster and not what Buster was doing to him. Detached was the word he used and maybe it had been because he was helping Buster or maybe it was that Buster was a guy and that was a little weird for Hunter.

Brandon is not detached. Every little thing Buster does, each flick of his tongue or flex of his fingers makes Brandon catch his breath or shiver. Instead of freaking Buster out, it makes him want to do more. When he runs his tongue over the head of Brandon's cock--there's that sharp salt taste again--Brandon chokes out his name. He's tense and Buster realizes that Brandon's fighting not to move and God, that's hot. Buster knows he can't, not yet, but he wants to just push his mouth down over Brandon's dick and let Brandon move. He wants Brandon's hand resting on his head while Brandon fucks up into his mouth.

Shoving the panic that image invokes to one side--because seriously, what the fuck?!--Buster lifts his head. "Put...touch me," he says, not quite able to explain what he wants. Frustrated, he reaches for Brandon's hand and guides it into place on the back of his head.

"Jesus, Buster," Brandon says. "Are you...fuck!"

Buster's licking harder now. It's messier, wetter, and when he pauses and just jacks Brandon's dick for a minute, his hand slides easily along the shaft. It's probably the worst combination of a handjob and a blowjob ever, but when Buster bends down again and licks right below the head, Brandon's fingers slide into Buster's hair.

If Buster could get hard again, he would, but since he can't, he concentrates on making it as good as he can for Brandon. And clearly that one spot does it; Buster licks at it again, pressing harder with his tongue. "Keep doing that and move your hand." Brandon's voice is harsh and Buster should totally be put off by the demand, but he's not, not at all.

"Yeah," Brandon moans as Buster uses his tongue and his hand. "Yeah, that's it...fuck, Buster...so fucking good." Buster keeps it up, pausing every few seconds to drag his tongue over the slick head. He's just done that when Brandon's fingers twist in Buster's hair and he tugs hard.

"Gonna...I'm gonna...."

"Do it," Buster says, working Brandon's dick hard with his hand. "Want it in my mouth next time...come on, Brandon, let me see it."

"Fuck!" Brandon yells, arching up into Buster's touch. He's still pulling Buster's hair, but Buster barely notices as he watches Brandon come all over himself. Before he can stop himself, Buster leans down and catches the last of it in his mouth. It's kind of slimy, but totally worth it to see Brandon shudder again.

Brandon's grip on Buster's hair loosens and Buster rests his head on Brandon's thigh.

"You," Brandon says, his voice shaky. "You're so fucking hot. I can't fucking believe that you're even here...that you let me...."

Buster can't really believe it himself. His heart's hammering in his chest like he's the one who just came and oh fuck no; now is not the time for a freak out. It felt good, he tells himself. I liked it. Brandon liked it. It's okay...it's so so fucking gay, but it's okay.

"Buster?" Brandon runs his fingers through Buster's hair as he finally lets go. "Buster...come up here, okay? I want to...."

Before he can finish talking, Buster's moved up the bed.

"Yeah," Brandon says. He wraps an arm around Buster and pulls him in close. Burying his face in Brandon's shoulder, Buster presses up against his side and tries not to cling.

"Sorry...."

"Don't," Brandon says. "I've got you."

If he's okay with Buster clinging, then fuck it; Buster's gonna cling. He slows his breathing down, trying to match Brandon's own breathing and when Brandon runs a hand down his back, Buster can feel the tension easing.

"I'm okay," he says. "That was...more than I thought I could do."

"It was fucking amazing," Brandon says.

"Yeah right." Buster frowns; sure, he's a little tense but does Brandon really feel the need to humor him?

"Next time I go down on you, I'll use my hand and just lick that one spot and you'll see what I mean." Brandon tightens his arm around Buster. "I don't need to be deep throated every time, you know. You were totally into it and I only wish I'd been able to hold off longer because it felt really good."

"I...I kinda had a moment but I was able to get past it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I was...." Buster goes silent for a long moment. "I wanted you to hold me down," he finally says, wondering if Brandon can feel the heat radiating off his face. "I wanted you to hold my head down while you...whileyoufuckedmymouth."

Brandon runs his hand up and down Buster's back while Buster tries to relax again. "Nothing wrong with wanting that. And you know, just because you fantasize about something doesn't mean you have to do it. And even if you want to do it, doesn't mean you have to do it tomorrow."

"Sometimes," Buster says quietly. "I think I'm more upset about being a bottom than I am about being gay."

"Yeah, I can see that." Brandon's still stroking Buster's back and Buster almost feels like he should be purring in response. "It's not any more gay, though. It might not feel like it, but you're just as gay when I had your dick in my mouth as you were when I had my hand in your hair."

"Yeah. And God, that was fucking hot."

"It really was." Brandon pauses. "Buster?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you know what a safeword is?"

"No."

"You can always tell me no or stop, but if you want...if you want it to be really clear that you need things to come to a complete halt, a safeword's the way to go." Brandon sighs. "Normally, it's just if you're kinky and you're doing some kind of scene where you want to say no but mean yes."

"Why would...." Buster's voice trails off. What if he'd told Brandon to stop earlier and Brandon hadn't paid attention to him. It would have scared him but, what if it had been a fake thing? A game? "Huh," he says.

"I'm not saying we'd even want to do that," Brandon says. "But I want you to know that even if we're both really caught up in it, we can stop it. So you have a word or two, something you can remember but not something you'd be likely to yell out in the middle of sex. Some people use "red" for stop, "yellow" for slow down, and "green" just to make it clear they're okay. Or you can pick something random."

"Do you have one?"

"Haven't needed to in a while, but yeah. It's 'pickle' and don't ask unless you want to hear a long, kinda stupid, story about my first boyfriend."

"You don't need it with...." Buster pauses. He hasn't asked Brandon about his thing with Bum and Ali, even after Bum mumbled something to him about "it" being okay. Because of the schedule he hasn't caught Bum since then and won't for another few days, so hopefully there won't be a problem.

"With Ali 'n' Bum?"

"Yeah. Sorry if I shouldn't ask."

"Nah, it's okay. They said I could tell you whatever I wanted to." Brandon lifts up on one elbow. "Mind if I go rinse off a little though?"

"Oh yeah, go ahead. Must be getting a little itchy."

They've both washed up a bit and put on shorts by the time they come back to bed. "Shoulder?" Brandon asks. "Or spooning? Or not. I'm good with whatever."

"Shoulder," Buster says. "I like that."

"I told you; I'm huggy. You can do that all night, far as I'm concerned." Brandon turns off the light on his nightstand and then settles down. Once Buster's got his head on Brandon's shoulder, Brandon runs his hand down Buster's back again.

"That's nice too."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Buster rests a hand on Brandon's chest. "I like being touched."

They lie quietly for a few moments and then Brandon says. "It's all tied up in how fucked up 2011 was. When I was riding that bus between here and Fresno, I started wondering if the front office knew I was gay. Some organizations try to...well, discourage players if they find out."

"They wouldn't do that," Buster says firmly. "I don't...look, I think you got jerked around a little, but, especially after Freddie went down, they were in panic mode. There was a lot of flailing around. I mean, God, that Beltran trade wasn't at all like Sabes."

"Yeah, that's pretty much what Bum said. He kept in touch, him and Ali. And after the season was over, even after winter ball in the DR, I could only spend so much time at home."

"Yeah," Buster says. "I know what you mean."

"So when Ali wanted me to come and see the farm, I came for a weekend and stayed for over a month. And like I said...one afternoon we were watching a Cowboys game and we had some Jack and the next thing you know, Bum's hand is in my lap." He laughs. "It was really kind of a blur, but then...we tried it without the Jack and it was still fun."

"What do you...no, sorry."

"It's okay. Bum doesn't do anal, well, not on the receiving side, but Ali does. So sometimes we double team her and sometimes I'm in the middle. Ali likes porn and she likes to watch gay porn, so sometimes Bum and I fool around a little so she can watch. But...they come as a set, you know? I don't do Bum on roadies and I don't mess around with Ali when he's gone to the store or something. And, Hunter's wrong about it. He thinks I'm in love and that it's gonna get weird."

"Is it?" Buster asks. "Because I don't want to fuck things up, if you've got a good thing going."

"Nah, we're good. Like I said, most nights when I go over for dinner, we watch The Bachelorette and snuggle on the couch. Well me and Ali watch it; Bum makes fun of it."

"It sounds kinda nice."

"It is. And you know...look, I know that right now, you're still figuring things out, but Bum's still your friend and Ali will always feed you."

"I roomed with Bum on the road when we played for San Jose and then Fresno. He's a stand up guy." And while it still makes Buster a little nervous that now three of his teammates know he's gay, at least they're people he trusts.

"So anyway, to get back to what we were talking about earlier," Brandon says. "It's really vanilla with them. No safewords needed."

"But with me? It's not vanilla?"

"Not when I've got my hand all up in your hair and I'm holding you down."

"I wanted that." Buster knows he sounds defensive, but mostly he's confused.

"I know you did," Brandon says. "But I'd feel a lot better if you know you have a surefire way out of it. And if you want that to be 'stop' or 'no' then that's fine. But I kinda got the feeling a few minutes ago...."

"That I understood why something other than 'no' is a good idea?" Buster's face is hot again and he's got that weird almost sick feeling in his stomach.

"Yeah. Right now? I mostly want you to have 'yellow' and 'green' so why don't you go with that? I want you to be able to say that you're okay with something but I need to lighten up or back off or slow down a little and, well, it's easier to say that with one word. Or, if I start thinking that one of us is pushing you too far, it helps if you can let me know we're good."

It makes all kinds of sense, but Buster's still a little hung up on the idea that he's not only gay, but apparently kinky as well.

"I...no, it's a good idea."

"I hear a but in there."

"It's a lot to take in."

Brandon's arm tightens around Buster. "Yeah, it is. And the thing is, like I said, this can all stay in your head. The thing about someone holding you down...it can just be jerk off stuff, you know?"

"You," Buster says. "You holding me down. I wouldn't trust someone else. And now, if I jerk off thinking about it...." He sighs. "I'm not very good at explaining stuff."

"Take your time," Brandon says. "It's okay."

"I tried so hard not to think about it--this, being gay--that I tend to jerk off pretty fast. Usually in the morning when I've just woken up. I don't think of...it's pretty abstract. Some vague person fucking me, or me blowing someone, not anyone specific. If I get specific...well, it's gonna be the guy who held me down."

"It means a lot that you trust me," Brandon says. "It means a lot that you feel safe talking to me."

"Yeah well," Buster turns his head a little and kisses Brandon's collarbone. "It means a lot that you make me feel safe. And that...look, Hunter was nice and he was patient and he was what I needed, but you...you're into what we do and that's really different."

"I am into it, believe me."

Buster opens his mouth, but what he was going to say gets lost in a giant yawn. "Gah...sorry."

"Nah," Brandon says, after yawning himself. "It's late. But hey, no game tomorrow. We can sleep in."

A few minutes later, when Buster's rolled on his side and is about to slide into sleep, he murmurs, "thank you."

* * *

The next morning, Brandon suggests going out for breakfast and has the nerve to look skeptical when Buster says he can cook.

"Jesus," he says a little bit later as Buster dishes up scrambled eggs and bacon. "I'm sorry I ever doubted you."

"I used most of your shredded cheese, so if you need quesadilla stuff, you'll need to get more. Sorry about that. If you had the ingredients, I'd make biscuits."

"So you can actually cook things? Like, real things?"

"Yeah. Mom was a stay at home mom, but she insisted we learn to cook anyway. And I like it, although it's not as fun for just one person."

"Both my parents worked, but my meemaw cooked for us most nights. I can make chili though."

"Yeah? I make really good cornbread."

"Sure you do," Brandon says after a moment spent shoveling food into his mouth. "Won't be the right kind though."

Buster leans back in his chair and exaggerates his drawl. "You sayin' a Texas boy knows more about cornbread than someone from the South?"

Brandon looks thoughtful for a moment and then nods. "Yeah, I am."

"You are so so wrong. Can you even make cornbread?"

"Nah, but I can get Meemaw's recipe and it'll be better than yours."

"We should both make some and ask someone to decide. Bum maybe, or Cainer." Buster gives Brandon his best innocent look.

"Oh yeah, because them other good ol' boys won't side with you at all. How about Hunter?"

"Not another fuckin' Texan," Buster says with a grin. "How about the Left Coast boys?"

"Only if they haven't been smoking. They'll eat just about anything when they're lit up."

"Do they really smoke that much? Sometimes I feel like there's a lot I miss out on."

"Nah, they don't, or at least not enough to get stupid. It's like how we all get drunk when we have a good reason reason to. But not during the playoffs, even after we beat the Reds and the Cards. And it's not just about getting totally fucked up. You can smoke a little just like you can have a beer or two the night before a game, you know."

"Huh. I never did."

"Yeah, I can't see it. Me, I tried it once but, apparently I giggle, and there's no way in hell I'm gonna let those guys know that."

"Sometimes I wish I could be different."

"Really?"

Buster sighs a little. "I just feel like I'm...I dunno, too serious or something." Brandon's looking at him like he's suddenly speaking in tongues. "What?"

"Do you have any idea how much we need you to be just the way you are? No one thinks you're too serious; everyone knows how much you care." Brandon's face is a little red, but he keeps on talking. "Everyone knows that Scoots and Hunter went to you when they thought something needed doing back in Cincinnati. Dude, they're veterans and they know it's your team. You...you don't need to be different than you are. You're perfect."

"Shut up. I am not," Buster says ducking his head. "I...."

"Didn't look too serious back you yelled 'yeah, baby' at Romes or when you attack hugged Tim on the mound or all those times you stood on tables and declared your big drunk love for all of us." When Buster starts to speak, Brandon shakes his head. "You're focused when you need to be and we all get that. We _like_ that about you. It helps."

"Oh...." Buster tries to think past his acute embarrassment to what Brandon's said. "I guess it's this thing...being gay I mean. I'm kind of caught up in my issues and I think I come across as...I dunno, morose or something."

"You're better at hiding stuff than you know." Brandon reaches across the table and slides his fingers between Buster's. "I wish we didn't have to hide, but since we do, just know that you're good. If you get a little moody at times people assume it's divorce stuff or you trying to work out how to fix this team."

"I wish I could," Buster says. "But that's...I try not to do that too much."

Brandon nods and smiles. "It's okay. It's gonna be okay."

"Thanks."

There's a moment of slightly embarrassed silence and then they both turn their attention to breakfast.

"So," Brandon says as he clears the table. "What do you usually do on off days?

"Work out, do laundry and other stuff around the house. Just the usual. What about you?"

"Depends. If there's a movie I haven't seen I go out, sometimes by myself and sometimes with Bum and Ali when she's here. Hey, have you seen The Avengers yet? It's pretty awesome."

"Don't I need to have seen the others first? The only one I've seen is the first Iron Man."

"Dude, you haven't...seriously, you need to start coming to movies with us." Brandon comes to stand behind Buster's chair. When he rests a hand on Buster's shoulder, Buster looks up at him. "You wanna watch movies until we're not full of breakfast?"

"And after that?"

"I was thinking we could maybe fool around."

"Okay." Buster stands up and slides his arms around Brandon's waist, pulling him for a kiss. It's a little easier now; Buster feels like he doesn't have to wait for Brandon do make the first move. It's nice to be able to kiss Brandon without overthinking it.

"Mmmm," Brandon says.

"Yeah," Buster replies with a little smile.

 _Thor_ turns out to be a great movie. They make out during what Brandon says are the slow parts, and that's great too. Buster's pretty worked up by the end of the movie and he's not the only one.

Almost as soon movie's over, Buster ends up on his back on the sofa. Brandon's mostly on top of him, his hardon nudging Buster's hip. He kisses Buster hard and Buster arches up into him as soon as he feels Brandon's teeth close on his lower lip. Like everything Brandon's done so far, it's a revelation; Buster's lip feels hot and swollen by the time Brandon lifts his head.

"What do you want?" Brandon asks. He rolls his hips a little, pressing against Buster. "What can I do to you?"

"Fuck me," Buster says. He catches his breath, because he wasn't planning on asking just yet, but he meets Brandon's eyes when Brandon goes up on an elbow to look at him.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Buster says. "And I know I'm playing tomorrow, so don't start with that. I'm not gonna wait until fucking October."

"Okay, but I need to check in here. What did...Hunter didn't fuck you, right?"

"Right," Buster says and now he has to look away. "He used his fingers. And I did, the other night."

It had been really freaky too, not to mention awkward, but Buster had come so fucking hard hard. And he'd thought....

"Thought about you when I did it."

"Oh that's not fair," Brandon says. He leans down and gives Buster a quick kiss before sliding down the couch.

"Huh?" As Brandon tugs at his sweats, Buster goes up on his elbows to watch. Right here, he thinks. On the sofa?

"I'm gonna blow you," Brandon says. "Because it'll be better if you don't go off before we really get started."

"Oh." Buster laughs. "Hadn't thought of that. And what about you?" He reaches down and tries to haul Brandon back up the sofa. "How about we do it like this...rubbing off on each other." His face heats up and he scowls. "Goddamnit, will I _ever_ stop blushing?"

"I'd say it's cute, but your knee's a little close to my man area."

"Jerk. I haven't been cute for twenty years now," Buster says, tugging at Brandon's arm. "Get up here and come all over me, you asshole."

"Well when you put it like that...." Brandon gets out of his own sweats in a hurry.

Brandon was right, Buster thinks several minutes later. They're both still panting and sticky and Brandon's weight is pressing Buster into the sofa, but it's good. It's all good.

"You were right," he says when he can talk again.

"I'm always right."

"Ha ha. I meant, I'd have been done long before...you got me ready."

Brandon nuzzles Buster's neck and then sits up. "Yeah well, me too, probably." 

How he can move already, Buster doesn't know, but he admires the view as Brandon heads toward the hall. When he comes back, Buster's still sprawled on the sofa, but at least he's kicked off his sweats so they're not still bunched around his knees. Still, he feels kind of slutty and weirdly exposed when Brandon stands there and just looks at him for a moment.

"I keep thinking I'm gonna wake up and find this was all some kind of incredible wet dream," Brandon finally say. He hands a towel to Buster; it's damp, which makes the clean up a lot easier.

"Really? Because I keep feeling like that too. Only it's not and I won't wake up feeling...I dunno...afraid? Angry? Guilty?" Buster finishes mopping up and drops the towel on the floor. "Sorry for being pathetic."

"Shut the fuck up," Brandon says, and wow, no one's ever said those words to him with so much affection. Kicking the towel out of the way, Brandon settles done on the floor next to the couch. "Seriously, give yourself a break."

"It's easier to just be freaked out." Buster pauses and blinks. "Wow, where'd that come from?"

"True though." Brandon leans down and kisses Buster. "It's not just sex, you know that right? I'm always ready to talk if you want to."

"And if I'm tired of talking about it? Thinking about it all the goddamn time?"

"Then I've got Captain America and Iron Man 2 on that hard drive."

"Captain America," Buster says, grabbing his sweats off the floor. "And Brandon?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

It's a pretty good movie, good enough that Buster's able to ignore his nerves, for the most part. They make out some and he's wound up when the movie's done, but not the way he was earlier.

When Brandon turns the TV off, he glances over at Buster. "This isn't a contest," he says, frowning a little. "It's not a race and it's not something you have to be so...."

"So?"

"You look like you're facing a firing squad, which, to be honest, is a bit of a turn off. I don't want to fuck someone who's doing it because they think they should or because they have to."

"Even if I traded no for a safeword?" Buster asks before he can stop himself.

"You want me to what? Pretend to force you?"

When Brandon says it, it sounds awful and Buster sighs. "No, it's just...."

"I know what you mean," Brandon says. "But no. For one thing, I won't do that. No, I can't do that. Not for your first time ever. And two, pretending you don't have any control over it isn't going to make it better or easier."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I know you wouldn't."

"You know what will make it easy? If I get you so turned on that you...need me to fuck you."

It's a weird way to put it and something about the way Brandon carefully chose his words makes Buster wonder what he means. "Like, so turned on I ask for it?" he finally says, remembering how he felt that night at Hunter's place.

"Yeah."

There's that twist in his stomach again, the one he's decided is a combination of being afraid and being turned on. Buster wonders what it says about him that he's learned to like that feeling. "Well then," he says, lifting his chin a little. "If you think you can...."

Brandon laughs. "That's better," he says, standing up. "C'mon."

Once they're naked in bed together, Brandon settles in next to Buster. "So," he says. "It's easier if you're on your stomach, but are you gonna be comfortable that way?"

"Um...I think?"

Brandon bends down and kisses him hard, using his teeth on Buster's lower lip again. "Green?" he says when he pulls away.

"Green," Buster says, running his tongue over his lip.

"Jesus, your fucking tongue...."

"Nervous gesture."

"Yeah well, it's the hottest one I've ever seen." Brandon kisses him again and pushes gently at his hip.

Buster almost jumps when Brandon puts a hand on his leg, right behind his knee. "Bend it and push up a little...yeah, like that. God, I love having sex with ball players. Even guys as big as us are flexible." He runs a hand up Buster's thigh and then strokes Buster's ass gently.

Instead of getting the lube and just going for it, Brandon runs his hand up Buster's back. "I saw this drawing once, of a guy just like this--on his stomach with one knee up--and it was the hottest thing," he says as he moves his hand over Buster's back and then down to his ass. "You couldn't see anything really obscene and you couldn't tell if he was just sleeping or waiting for someone to touch him.

"I wish I could draw," he adds. He keeps touching Buster, keeps running his hands over Buster's body, and it feels amazing. Never mind getting fucked, Buster thinks. Brandon could do this all day and Buster would be just fine with it.

"Because you look even better than the guy in that picture. Lots of the guys have nice bodies; I mean have you looked at Bum lately? And even without looking at people in the shower, it's hard not to notice Torres."

"The things he wears," Buster murmurs. "How does he even get those jeans on?"

"Magic," Brandon says, running his fingers over Buster's ankle. Buster can tell when he reaches the scar and he shivers a little. "Sorry. Is it sensitive?"

"Opposite. There's a patch of skin down there that's always numb. Nerve damage."

"Freaky." Brandon moves back up Buster's calf, his touch firm enough that it doesn't tickle. "But you," he continues. "You're so in proportion...not all skinny legs, like Pence, and you don't have a long torso like I do. You're just right. And God, you have a fantastic ass."

"Flattery," Buster says as Brandon trails his fingers along the underside of Buster's ass.

"Nope, just appreciating. I mean, holy fuck, here you are in my bed. Do you know how many gay dudes in this city have fantasies about you?"

Normally that kind of talk makes Buster feel really weird, but now Brandon's fingers are moving up his spine and he arches his back a little. "I'm not in their beds," he says, his voice a little shaky. "I'm here, with you."

"Yeah." Brandon's voice is soft, but since his mouth's right at Buster's shoulder, Buster can hear him just fine. "And it's already better than the fantasies."

"Ohhhh...." Buster shivers as Brandon starts kissing his way down his spine. "You have...fuck!"

Brandon pauses and then kisses that spot--right at the dip of Buster's spine--again. Buster hadn't even known he was sensitive there, but when Brandon sucks at it a little, Buster's toes curl up. "All kinds of fantasies," Brandon says. "Wanna hear one?"

"Will I...oh! Like it?"

"Hopefully, since you kind of gave me the idea." Brandon's mouth moves further down and then Buster feels the soft tickle of his beard as he kisses one of Buster's ass cheeks. "Put you on your knees," Brandon says, his lips moving against Brandon's skin. "Stand in front of you." Another pause, this time while he nibbles a little patch of skin on Buster's thigh. "I'd get my fingers in your hair and just hold you still like that."

He's moved over to the other ass cheek now and it's almost too much--Buster's torn between the rough fantasy and the gentle pressure of Brandon's mouth and tongue. "And then I'd grab my dick and...."

"And?" Buster says when Brandon falls silent. 

"Hmmmm?" Brandon's nibbling again, this time at the underside of Buster's ass and, God, it feels good. "Oh yeah," Brandon says and Buster squirms. "I'd jack off all over your gorgeous face."

There's that hot, sick, turned on feeling low in Buster's belly again and he can't quite seem to catch his breath. Brandon's mouth is gone, but his fingers are suddenly back on that one spot on Buster's spine. "I'd let you," Buster says, glad Brandon can't see his face. Brandon's doing something--his hands leave Buster's body for a moment.

"Who says I'd give you a choice?"

Before Buster can even think of a response, Brandon slides a lube slick finger right behind his balls. "Oh fuck!" Buster yelps. It's a damn good thing he came earlier, he thinks vaguely as he pulls his knee higher against his chest. "Brandon...."

"I know," Brandon says. He's slowly running his finger over Buster's hole and every time Buster thinks Brandon's going to do more, that finger trails back behind his balls again. It's agonizing and perfect and Buster shudders hard when Brandon's other hand slides up his spine to the back of his neck.

"You're so fucking amazing; I could just touch you for hours."

Because of the position he's in, Buster can't move very much, but he squirms a little as Brandon keeps teasing him. He wants Brandon to touch him for hours but then again, he wants Brandon to fuck him. "Brandon," he says again. "Brandon."

"Yeah," Brandon says. "I will." Even as he says it, he's slowly pushing his finger inside Buster. It doesn't hurt or even burn the way it did when Buster tried it himself the other night. It's not gross or weird or freaky; it's what Buster wants. "For hours," Brandon murmurs.

"Oh fuck...Oh God!" Buster's fingers dig into the blankets as Brandon touches him right there, that spot that makes sparks flash behind his eyes. Unlike Hunter, Brandon knows exactly what he's doing; he rubs that spot again and then, as Buster's still shivering hard, he pulls his finger out.

Buster's opening his mouth to complain, but all he does is gasp as Brandon presses two fingers back into him. Now it does burn, not much, but it's enough to make Buster tense up because Jesus fucking Christ if this is only two fingers ....

"It'll be okay," Brandon murmurs, twisting his fingers a little. Buster shudders and sees sparks behind his eyes again. "Yeah...feel that? It's gonna feel even better, trust me." He does it again and adds, "red, yellow or green?"

Huh? Oh right. "Green," Buster says, breathlessly. Maybe he should have said yellow, but no. "Trust you," he adds.

"God, you're so...." Brandon murmurs, so low Buster can barely hear him.

Brandon's so slow and so careful that Buster loses track of time. Each touch, each little movement, builds on the last one until the burn and stretch feels good, even when Brandon slowly works a third finger into him. Every time he thinks he wants more, Brandon gives him a little more, until....

"No," Buster groans as Brandon stops. It gets worse, Brandon pulls out and, oh God no; Buster's not done, not ready for this to be over. "Don't don't...Brandon...green damnit!"

"Gotta give me more than that," Brandon says. He sounds a little more in control of himself that Buster is, and Buster hears him ripping open a condom package. "You're ready. "You're as ready as I can get you. If you want more...."

"Yeah," Buster says. "More...more is good. Like more right now."

"Not enough," Brandon says. "Tell me what you want, Buster."

"Fuck me," Buster says without hesitation. "God...c'mon Brandon. You said if I asked...fuck me."

As soon as Buster says it, Brandon grips his hips. "You've gotta move, okay? Get both knees under you...oh fuck, yeah. Just like that." Buster has maybe half a second to feel horribly exposed, because he's here in a guy's bed with his face buried in a pillow and his ass in the air, but then Brandon's talking again. "God, look at you," he says. "Fucking gorgeous."

When he feels the slick head of Brandon's cock press against him, Buster can't help tensing up again. He had that cock in his hands, even ran his tongue all over it, and there's just no way it's going to....

"Oh fuck," he yelps. "Brandon...." Brandon's pushing into him, all slow and easy, the way he was using his fingers before. It doesn't hurt, Buster thinks. Well, not exactly, because it does, a little. But it feels good too and he moans into the pillow as Brandon pulls back and then pushes in, going a little deeper each time. Each slow thrust makes Buster want more, but when he rocks back, Brandon's fingers go tight on his hips.

"Don't," he says, holding Buster still. "Don't rush it."

"But I need," Buster mumbles, not caring how desperate he sounds.

"I know," Brandon says. "I know you do. It's okay."

Before Buster can say anything, Brandon starts moving again. "Oh God," Buster moans. "Oh God...." It's too much, too intense, but it's so fucking amazing and he can't quite remember why he never did this before today. "Good...God, so good...."

"Yeah?" Brandon voice is hoarse. "Pretty fucking good for me too." It just makes it better, knowing that.

Buster's shuddering and digging his fingers into the blankets when Brandon finally stops. "You okay?" Brandon asks, running his hand down Buster's back again.

"I...uh yeah." Buster sucks in a deep breath, because damn, it's kind of intense. "Is that...?"

"Yeah," Brandon rocks back again, just a little. "That's all of it."

"Your dick's...fucking huge," Buster says, although really, how would he know? It's not like he has a basis for comparison.

Brandon chuckles and suddenly Buster's struck by the ridiculousness of the situation.

"Yeah, it is," Brandon says with another snicker. "Tell me what you want me to do with it."

"Fuck me," Buster says. One of Brandon's hands is still tight on his hip, but Buster rocks back as much as he can. "Want you to fuck me, Brandon."

"You sure about that?" Brandon's fingers slide into Buster's hair and he gives a little tug, before letting go and grabbing Buster's hip again.

"Yeah. C'mon, just...." Whatever else Buster was going to say gets lost when Brandon pulls back slowly. "Yeah," is the best he can manage. "Oh yeah...."

Brandon keeps it slow and steady, and it's good, so good. Buster's adjusted to the feel of a cock inside him and even the idea of it doesn't seem so shocking any more. He's getting fucked and he _likes_ it. "Feels good," he mumbles into the pillow. "You...fucking me. Feels so good."

"Yeah?" Brandon's next thrust is a little harder. "How's that? Want more?"

"Yeah...fuck yeah...." And he does; as good as this is, he knows it's going to get better. "More...gimme more."

"God, the way you want it...you're so fucking hot like this," Brandon's voice is strained. "Wanna fuck you hard...you want it hard? Tell me you want it hard." His fingers dig into Buster's skin and suddenly getting fucked hard sounds like the best thing ever.

"I want it...God, I really want it." He can't really move, but he tries anyway. "Brandon...fuck me. Need it...please?"

"Jesus fucking Christ," Brandon mutters.

For a second, they're both still and Buster knows that even now, even with Brandon as worked up as he is, all Buster has to do is tell him to stop--say red--and he will. Buster bites his lip.

And then, Brandon shoves into him hard. It should hurt, and maybe it does, but Buster's seeing those sparks behind his eyes and he's all but clawing at the blankets. "Oh God," he manages to get out. It feels like Brandon's fucking the breath right out of him and as for words...hell, he can't even think very much right now, let alone talk.

Each hard thrust is perfect, is what Buster wants. It's what he's wanted, what he's always wanted, what he's tried not to think about about for years now. He tries to move again, tries to shove back against Brandon to get more, but no, Brandon won't let him. All Buster can do is be here, face on the pillow, ass up and let Brandon fuck him.

There's no distraction, no way to feel anything but the steady push of Brandon's dick inside him. Buster's making noise now, words like "fuck" and "oh God" and "Brandon" mixed in with loud groans. He can't take more, he really can't; it's too much, too intense and he's going to break into pieces if he can't...if he doesn't....

"Brandon...need to...."

"Yeah," Brandon says roughly. "Yeah, Buster, do it...wanna feel it."

When Brandon's hand closes around Buster's dick, Buster yells into the pillow and comes harder than he ever has. His vision goes gray around the edges and he can feel the muscles in his thighs tense and flex as he tries not to collapse down onto the bed. When Brandon thrusts into him again, Buster shivers hard and it's almost like coming all over again.

"Fuck," Brandon growls. He's losing his rhythm as he fucks Buster hard and fast. "Buster...God oh God!"

Brandon's weight pushes Buster down on the bed, but he doesn't give a damn; he's so relaxed that he's comfortable even with Brandon on his back. He doesn't even mind the fact that he seems to have come all over the damn place and that he's lying in the worst of the mess.

They lie like that for a long moment, Brandon's breath hot on the back of Buster's neck. Finally, Brandon bites down lightly on Buster's shoulder. "You're fucking incredible."

"Yeah?" Buster says. "I was thinking the same about you since you did all the work."

"Was better because it's you." 

Buster can feel it the moment Brandon goes tense and he wonders if this is how it felt to Hunter every time Buster got nervous or freaked out.

He squirms a little. "Let me roll over," he says and then hisses a little as Brandon's cock slides out of him. "Wait," he adds as Brandon sits back on his heels to give Buster some room. "I still want you on me; I just want to be able to see you."

Brandon nods, but his face is still a little blank as he pulls the condom off, knots it and tosses it in the bed side trash. "Scoot over so you're not in the wet spot," he says.

Once Buster's settled on his back, he reaches out and pulls Brandon down on top of him again. "Feels good like this," he says, before kissing Brandon. "It's okay, you know. It meant something to me, you being the one to...." He sighs. "Look I'm not saying we have to register with Under Armour, but I told you earlier, this wasn't me experimenting."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Buster takes a deep breath and looks up at Brandon. "And I want to...I'd like to see where this goes. Not just the fucking, but...being with you. If that's something you want."

"I'd like that," Brandon says, before giving Buster another kiss.

"Good, because you haven't come all over my face yet."

Brandon rests his forehead on Buster's and laughs.

* * *

_a week later_

 

As soon as Buster's tossed his stuff into the corner of his hotel room, he makes his way down the hall.

"What!" Brandon yells when Buster knocks on his door. "Just leave me...oh hey." He lowers his voice but he's still scowling.

"You want company?"

"I dunno...I'm not very good company right now."

"I know. Let me in?"

As the door closes behind Buster, Brandon heads over to the window and looks out over the City of Brotherly Love. "Bam Bam wants me to call Dominic Brown." He snorts. "Where 'wants' means they're trying to scare me into...sorry. Not your problem."

"They're bringing up Pill, aren't they?"

"Yeah, and...and I'm sitting this whole fucking series out." All the anger seems to fade out of him as he sits down on the edge of the bed. "I don't know what to do. I wasn't sure if I should talk to you because you're my boyfriend or...you know, whatever we are."

"What does that have to do with it?"

"I dunno. I just thought maybe we should keep this kind of thing separate, but I'd want to talk to you anyway. I mean we don't have a captain, but you're...."

"What I am is right here," Buster says as he sits down next to Brandon.

"Okay fine. What do you think I should do?"

"You've got the best manager and one of the best hitting coaches around telling you you need to do something and you really should listen to them. It's not like 2011," he adds, guessing what Brandon's worried about. "You belong here and they want to make sure that you get to stay."

"But what if it makes things worse? What if it screws up my hitting even more? I can't just go changing things in the middle of the season. What if it doesn't work? What then?"

And maybe Brandon's the one in charge in bed, but right now he looks a little lost. Buster reaches for his hand.

"That's why you need to call Brown. Because it worked for him and he's been there."

Brandon looks down at their linked hands for a long time. "Yeah," he finally says. "Yeah.

Sliding an arm around Brandon's waist, Buster tugs him close. "It'll be okay."

"If you're here," Brandon says, turning to look at Buster. "I think it will."

_-end-_


End file.
